


Question Master

by painted_carousel



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, and there's Netflix, its raining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-07-12 02:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painted_carousel/pseuds/painted_carousel
Summary: Emerging from her meditation, prompted by Waverly’s beckoning smile, Nicole took her time settling in on the couch. When they were both comfortable again, she turned to face Waverly, soft voice blending with the rain’s rhythmic tapping.“So this game- lets call it ‘Question Master.’”





	1. Kismet

**Setting** : The Homestead on a melancholy, rainy September night. It’s still warm enough for the rain to feel atmospheric and a bit sexy, as midnight leisurely approaches. Nicole and Waverly are tucked under a blanket, hands grasped, comfortable in the knowledge that Wynonna is off drinking _somewhere_ with _someone_ , and Netflix is still dependable, despite the rain and the Homestead’s desolate location. The credits rolled, prompting Netflix to ask the couple whether they wanted to continue watching.

Waverly languorously stretched and looked over at Nicole. 

“What do you think? One more episode?”

Nicole tilted her head, resting it against Waverly’s shoulder.

“If you want, baby. Although I don’t really trust Netflix to persevere through both rain and the Homestead’s supply of ammolite. Plus I know how you get with spoilers, even if those spoilers were current 15 years ago.

“Nicole, Buffy is a cultural touchstone, whether or not I grew up in occult Pleasantville. While human-vampire love affairs and ill-fated Wiccan dabbling may seem a bit, um, _pedestrian_ , in light of the supernatural milieu we get to call home, spotty wifi and revenants be damned, I will complete this rite of passage!” 

Nicole chuckled, acquiescing to her girl. 

“Ok ok, when you put it that way… let’s just maybe take a break so I can get us some drink refills and also a snack that I can’t physically feel filling my body with nutrients. Late night Netflix binges are not for food that contains flaxseed.”

But before Nicole stood, stretching her arms across the couch back, a thought struck her.

“Actually, I have an idea. Want to play a game?”

Waverly cocked an eyebrow, intrigued.

“What kind of game, love?”

Nicole paused, looking intently at at Waverly with a slight smirk.

“Lets just say…. It will satisfy your curiosity..”

With that, Nicole strolled to the kitchen, leaving a curious, slightly turned on Waverly in her wake. Nicole could hear the rain ricocheting off the Homestead’s tin roof, alluring in its melodic rhythm. She could feel the evening shifting towards something weighty and intimate, that could lead in a few different directions. Regardless of the route this diversion took, she knew that it would inevitably be tied to a deeper exploration of the almost unnerving kismet intersection the pair’s lives seemed to share. 

Nicole allowed herself a moment of introspection as she waited for the popcorn to finish cooking. During nights like these in particular, she had trouble believing the path her life had taken. Popcorn and a peaceful rain were one thing; there was a quiet gratitude Nicole had learned to adopt for moments that reminded her that the heartbeat she felt was a gift she sometimes seemed unable to explain. But her and Waverly -- well that was a type of fate that even in Nicole’s most pragmatic moments seemed too overwhelming to evaluate as discernment or simple compatibility. 

Shaken from her reflections by the sharp beep of a microwave, Nicole wandered back into the living room and gently placed their beers and an oversized bowl of popcorn on the time-worn coffee table; a coffee table Nicole knew had been present during memories from Waverly’s life that she may well be granted permission to hear tonight

Emerging from her meditation, prompted by Waverly’s beckoning smile, Nicole took her time settling in on the couch. When they were both comfortable again, she turned to face Waverly, soft voice blending with the rain’s rhythmic tapping.

“So this game- lets call it ‘Question Master.’”

Waverly smirked at this and twirled a stray wisp of hair.

“Well I think I like the sound of this already.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------


	2. Round One- Nicole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ok, so I get to be Question Master this round; which basically means that I can ask you at least one but up to three questions with no restrictions and you have to answer them -- although have to is of course a relative term because if you really feel uncomfortable at any point you can pass and--"
> 
> Waverly grabbed Nicole’s hand and jumped up in.
> 
> “Baby, as much as I’m enjoying this stroll down Nicole Haught, Soft-Lesbian-in-Training Lane, I say we either start playing this Question Master game or we get back to exploring the physics-defying way in way in which every single street in Sunnydale seems to lead to every other street in the town.”
> 
> Waverly was looking at Nicole with a challenging smirk and Nicole knew now was her chance.

From the very first encounters, their connection was undeniable. Even today, a few years unfurled behind them, the air seemed to crackle with a shared energy anytime Nicole and Waverly shared space. But sometimes that ineffable bond seemed to speak for itself. Which meant Waverly and Nicole didn’t necessarily. Speak that is.

But tonight Nicole wanted an overabundance of words. When faced with conflict or a moment of awkwardness, Waverly had no issues filling tense silence with her lilting stream of consciousness. When one of the wires forming the labyrinthine circuitry of her brain was tripped - at least once on the hour, every hour to Nicole’s adoring exasperation - the words would come wildly, Waverly’s need to identify and catalogue and resolve close to compulsion.

But in the face of exploring her own interior world, Waverly fell silent. Nicole had come to realize that in spite of the intense intimacy the two of them shared, there was still so much about Waverly that was unknown. From the mundane, like memories of favorite childhood books and movies, to weightier, more fundamental questions of identity that had never seemed to come up, Nicole wanted it all. But she knew Waverly. And she knew that for every piece of her hardwired to give and give and give, some fundamental instinct - call it self-preservation or hard lessons learned at too young an age - drove Waverly to conceal a tightly bound collection of things too close to the bone.

So Nicole proposed a game.

“Are you sure you’re up for this, Waves? I’ll give you one last chance to back out of Question Master and into the comforting embrace of Buffy in a college era trench coat.”

“Obviously I’d be heading towards Faith’s letter pants," Waverly quipped back at Nicole. “But seriously, you’ve kept me in suspense long enough. Let’s do this.”

Nicole looked at Waverly, contemplating her first question. She didn’t want to scare her off by going too deep too quickly -- Nicole quietly snorted to herself (head out of the gutter, Haught) -- so she internally scrolled through all of the vagaries and deflections she’d encountered in her time knowing Waverly Earp. Now was the chance to finally move past those walls.

“This was something that started with an old college friend," Nicole explained.

"We felt a sort of instant connection that evolved into spending more and more time together but neither of us exactly knew how to get past the new, non-romantic acquaintance plateau situation. So one night, we had gotten together to hang out and eventually after some drinks, Sam, my friend, came up with this “game.”

Nicole gauged Waverly for an initial reaction and when she saw interest, she continued.

“Ok, so I get to be Question Master this round; which basically means that I can ask you at least one but up to three questions with no restrictions and you _have_ to answer them -- although _have to_ is of course a relative term because if you really feel uncomfortable at any point you can pass and--

Waverly grabbed Nicole’s hand and jumped up in.

“Baby, as much as I’m enjoying this stroll down Nicole Haught, Soft-Lesbian-in-Training Lane, I say we either start playing this Question Master game or we get back to exploring the physics-defying way in way in which every single street in Sunnydale seems to lead to every other street in the town.”

Waverly was looking at Nicole with a challenging smirk and Nicole knew now was her chance.

Nicole cleared her throat, accepting the challenge.

“Ok, round one, question one - did you know that I was flirting with you that first time in Shorty’s--” Waverly went to reply but was quickly cut off -- “AND, if so, were you oh-so-smoothly attempting to flirt back with that?”

Waverly squinted at Nicole and shook her head, exasperation combined with an affectionate nostalgia written in her facial expression.

“You know, your whole friendly, ‘aw shucks’ rookie cop routine nearly backfired. You came strolling in and for the first minute or so, I was ready to revert to my whole ‘Nicest Person in Purgatory,’ sash-winning routine because there was something about the interaction that felt uncomfortable. Too familiar almost.”

Nicole was looking at Waverly with a frown now. “Shit Waves, I never meant to make--” 

Waverly quickly cut her off.

“The thing was, it wasn’t because you did anything wrong. You were charming and captivating and totally respectful all at the same time. But there was something playing out that I had recognized in myself a long time ago, something that my life and my friends and Purgatory in general had lets say, _encouraged_ , me to bury a long time ago. And then suddenly this thing, this way of being in the world I had just sort of censored entirely in my mind, before I had ever even had the chance to explore it, was suddenly playing out in front of me at 2pm on a Tuesday in a sticky, Cowboy themed bar.”

Nicole’s expression changed, her eyes softening and her grip on Waverly’s hand becoming more assured.

“I know we’re not to this part of the story yet and I’m sure Question MAster will get us there at some point but in retrospect, even as you shook my hand across the bar at Shorty’s, there was something about you that scared me. But the thing is, I’ve always been pulled towards the things that feel unnerving And even though I could probably have never articulated at the time that what I was feeling wasn’t just admiration or intrigue or curiosity but serious, full-blown attraction, there was something about that encounter that set my famously stubborn Earp resolve in motion.

Nicole’s pulse gradually began speeding up, the hints of a dimpled smile beginning to appear as she listened to Waverly’s reflections.

“So to answer the second part of your question, HELL YES, I was flirting back with you. I don’t think I could have kept our interaction entirely PG-rated if I had tried. But unfortunately as it was happening, I had no idea my whole blushing barkeep song and dance routine was literal gay panic, not just monumental awkwardness, which is why I continued to let Champ slobber on me like a St. Bernard for another month.”

Nicole snorted at this, her dimples now appearing in full force. But as Waverly watched her laugh, affection blooming deep within her, Nicole’s expression became more contemplative.

“You know Waves, I think about that day on a loop sometimes. What would have happened if I hadn’t summoned up the courage to walk in to Shorty’s. What would have happened if that tap hadn’t broken and you’d just sent me down the street to an actual coffee shop. What if --”

With that, Nicole stopped and looked deep in Waverly’s eyes. After a moment, Waverly gave her hand an encouraging squeeze, prompting Nicole to finish her thought.

“What if Champ was still the Rodeo King boyfriend of Purgatory’s nicest former head cheerleader? ANd even worse, what if that day, the most significant, terrifying, meaningful 10 minutes in my life registered for you as just another quiet, forgettable shift at Shorty’s?”

Waverly quickly cut Nicole off with a soft, slow kiss. 

“Well the good news is, none of your apocalyptic hypotheticals came to pass. And now you know exactly how I feel about that day. And you know what?"

Nicole leaned in and pushed a strand of hair behind Waverly’s ear. “What, baby?”

“I really think I’m starting to understand this whole Question Master thing.”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who read that entirely vague Chapter One and provided encouragement.
> 
> I've pushed this boat out to sea and now we'll see where these two crazy kids end up!


	3. Round Two- Waverly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ok, baby, you’re finally in the _Haught_ seat.” Nicole listlessly raised one eyebrow while Waverly paused to allow her pun a moment.

Waverly and Nicole had progressively become more and more entangled with one another. As the night wore on, the vast Purgatory sky deepening to a bottomless black, the pair traded new intimacies, soft voices whispering through the empty Homestead.

Though Nicole had responded as Waverly spoke, offering up bits of memories or surprising facts (high on the list of discoveries was Nicole’s undiluted love for ‘90s era professional wrestling), it was finally Waverly’s first official round as the Question Master. She looked now at Nicole with a smile, her eyes squinting slightly with mock suspicion.

“Ok, baby, you’re finally in the _Haught_ seat.” Nicole listlessly raised one eyebrow while Waverly paused to allow her pun a moment.

“If things hadn’t gone so swimmingly for you that first time in Shorty’s, like say, maybe you hadn’t managed to sweet talk me right out of my shirt, would you” -- here, Waverly faltered slightly before finishing her question-- “would you have kept chasing me?”

Though Nicole knew a tiny fissure of insecurity had opened up, she couldn't resist teasing Waverly for a moment.

“Well I learned this old saying back when I used to get dragged to Sunday school classes every week that when God closes a door, he sends you a second Earp sister, so maybe I would have just moved on and tried my luck with Wynonna.” Waverly rolled her eyes, letting Nicole have her own comedic pause, then directed her gaze back to Nicole’s eyes.

Nicole quickly adjusted her expression, letting the moonlight and memories washing over her reset her demeanor. She was suddenly transported back to those early electrifying weeks when something compelled her to _just be persistent_. There had been the moments of delirious revelation, the kind that permanently imprinted themselves on her, reconfiguring entire schemas Nicole had spent a lifetime constructing. There had also been the kind of visceral doubt that tapped into depths Nicole had nearly forgotten existed. 

She’d found herself in some beautiful space of grasping, unsure whether ruin or rebirth awaited her. Either way, she knew that she was glimpsing some piece of her fate.

As she thought, her gaze had drifted the corner where Waverly’s coat hung, the one she wore that first time at the police station. Nicole looked back at Waverly, meeting her eyes, and said without pretense, “No, I wouldn’t have. Because you, Waverly Earp, were too consequential to reduce to a chase. You and I have always been meant to run together side by side. But I probably would have spent the rest of my days searching, wondering why the world never stopped feeling hollow.”

Waverly paused then, her eyes drifting to somewhere past Nicole. She twisted one of the delicate rings always on her fingers, a look of nervous contemplation suffusing her face. Nicole waited patiently for Waverly to work through this. She always did.

“Has this ever felt like too much?”

At this, Nicole took in a deep breath. She took in one more and glanced towards a corner of the living room, where the light from one of the innumerable stars glinted off a bit of varnished wood. She allowed her mind to wander back one day, three days, a month, nine months, through the catastrophes and the euphoria. If was difficult to fathom. 

“Waves, everything about the world is too much. My parents choosing dogma over their own child’s well-being is too much. The everyday, painfully human choice other cops make to head out into the world and reinforce their darkest impulses, feeling fully justified by a history and national legacy that proves them right, is too much. The absolute and unrelenting abdication of choice your sister and you face every single day is way way too much.”

At this she paused, grasping both of Waverly’s hands in her own. Nicole could see a deep, exhausting grief in Waverly’s eyes and she hesitated for a moment. But as she felt the grounding warmth of their entwined fingers, she pressed on.

“Yeah, a lot of times it all feels like too much. But I will continue to give all that I am capable of to people because that’s the only way I know to feel a part of this world. And in the meantime, I will also love you, because no matter how else I feel or what I accomplish, the little speck of enduring human connection you and I have created is more than enough for me.”

Waverly’s kiss caught her by surprise, but Nicole quickly felt her body re-center and her hands tangle in Waverly’s hair. The Homestead creaked softly, the night approaching its apex, as Nicole and Waverly traded unspoken promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the few, the proud, the brave who have soldiered on with this. I've really enjoyed digging in to the brains of these two knuckleheads and all of your incredibly kind feedback is, well, incredibly kind!


	4. Chapter 4- Waverly (continued)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new fluff-filled installment of Question Master, in which Waverly tortures poor Nicole with questions about her very first queer crush.

Waverly and Nicole were sleep delirious. The inaugural game of Question Master had been even more of a success than Nicole had anticipated and as 4am rolled around, she was having trouble getting Waverly to cede her control. Each response from Nicole seem to alert Waverly to more threads that needed unspooling, even as the sky outside began to lighten and their yawns were triggered in unison.

Nicole had just been finishing a story about purchasing her first pair of Doc Martens when Waverly, nearly manic with tiredness, gleefully launched in to her next question.

“What was your first crush like?” 

Waverly then quickly added, “And don’t say you were married to her too. One secret wife was traumatic enough, an illicit teenage shotgun wedding would just be tacky.” Waverly punctuated the last word with a playful smack to Nicole’s arm.

“Ugh, no,” Nicole groaned, her tired eyes closing in denial of the abrupt topic shift.

“I was really trying to avoid the very specific emotional trauma that comes with first crush queer teen angst,” Nicole added, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You know, some people metaphorically faceplant during their first teen romance, while I prefer the more literal route of actually tumbling down an entire flight of high school stadium bleachers.”

Waverly’s eyebrows shot up, an amused smirk forming. 

“Well I guess I hit the Question Master jackpot with that particular inquiry. So you, Nicole Haught, are going to abide by your own made up game rules and spill that story. Oh and try not to trip this time.”

Nicole frowned and made sure to sigh exaggeratedly. “Waverly Earp, are you mocking my adolescent pain? Because that’s a very risky tactic that’s likely to invite a well-known Question Master penalty.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” Waverly amusedly asked.

“Enforced celibacy for at least 6 weeks,” Nicole deadpanned.

Waverly smacked Nicole’s shoulder. “Baby, you know that would be as much a punishment for you as it would be for me.”

“Waves, if you keep teasing me I’m going to start digging through my secret wife Rolodex and then we’ll see just who has more difficulty with that 6 weeks.” 

"Listen, stop stalling, Lothario, and get on with the story. And by the way, we both know the most believable part about that story is you being a Millennial that actually owns a Rolodex." 

“Hey, relying solely on digital storage is a just an open invitation for…” 

_“...catastrophic data loss and compromised personal information,”_ Waverly and Nicole finished in unison.

“Sweetie, save your digital protections lecture for the Purgatory Adult Education Institute and get to your woes and tribulations as a romantically inept gay teenager.”

“Well thank you, baby, for that utterly sensitive prologue.” When Nicole saw that Waverly was not going to budge on the question, she finally forged ahead.

“Ugh, fine. Her name was Tess, she was a soccer player, she and her family lived down the street, and she well and truly sent me into a panicked spiral of teenage angst that I can only characterize as unmitigated embarrassment.”

“Aw, baby, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. I mean, your last name was still Haught for goodness sake, even back in high school.” 

“Waverly, a year’s worth of barely concealed pining from a distance, followed by another year of drunken jock party hookups that usually began and ended in the types of earth shattering fights only inebriated teenage girls can whip up, a leaked photocopy of the world’s most cringeworthy poetry - that contained an unironic attempt at iambic pentameter, I should add - oh and a break up motivated teepeeing incident at my house, would all seem to contradict your very generous assessment of the situation."

Nicole finished the story with a deep breath and a pointed look in Waverly’s direction.

Waverly was quiet for a moment and Nicole assumed it was out of contrition.

“Umm, not to pour salt in the wound but I don’t seem to recall hearing anything about falling down bleachers in all of that,” Waverly said with a straight face.

‘Yeah, definitely no contrition,’ Nicole thought with exasperation, preparing in her mind the retaliatory question to shoot at Waves as soon as she finally decided to relinquish control of this round. 

With chuckle and a squeeze of Waverly’s hand, Nicole reminded herself that _nothing_ was fair in love and war when it came to the Earps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a quick, lighthearted little update to console us all in light of the conclusion of Season Three. I think this is coming to its natural conclusion so look out for two, maybe three more chapters. And thanks as always for the absolutely lovely feedback!


	5. Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they waited with an ear to the door, Nicole glanced at one of the Homestead’s yellowing framed images, hanging on a wall near the staircase. In it was one of the few photographs that hadn’t been destroyed during the Jolene years, before Waverly’s mother had been just another ghost haunting her.

Nicole and Waverly were sharing a rare early night together, the citizens of Purgatory as well as the more supernatural occupants of its local Hellmouth seemingly observing some unspoken sabbath. The pair had finished preparing dinner together and were waiting for Wynonna to crash into the Homestead, before beginning to eat. These days, maintaining some sense of normalcy in the face of their continually re-configured family assemblage, lay in benign gestures like shared meals. Even if one member of the group was more likely to down the accompanying wine than any of the food.

As they waited with an ear to the door, Nicole glanced at one of the Homestead’s yellowing framed images, hanging on a wall near the staircase. In it was one of the few photographs that hadn’t been destroyed during the Jolene years, before Waverly’s mother had been just another ghost haunting her. Wynonna and Waverly had stumbled on it together while hunting for research books in a dusty corner of their attic and Waverly had come home one evening to see it displayed on the wall, hung up by Wynonna in a rare moment of sentimentality.

Nicole ran a finger along the edge of the frame, her eyebrows creasing in a frown. She looked at Waverly, then back at the photograph once more.

“You know, sometimes I feel really sad that I didn’t know you as a child. Is that strange?” 

“No, I don’t think so, baby. Maybe that’s just what it’s like to really be in love,” Waverly replied with a shrug. 

Nicole smiled at Waverly’s easy insight. Buoyed by this recognition, she took the opportunity to elaborate on Waverly’s observation. 

“You’re right. I mean, I think it must be something to do with what I feel for you, the way this love feels unbound by normal constraints. But that’s not exactly true, is it?”

Nicole was looking at Waverly now, her eyes softer, searching.

“I mean, it’s not like your Momma was scrapbooking your 9th birthday party. And as great as Gus is, she doesn’t strike me as the sentimental, keepsake-saving type. There’s just so much I want to know about you, Waverly Earp and sometimes I feel like if I can just piece together the right combination of memories, some truth about why I was lucky enough to find you, why it is our stories intersected, will reveal itself.”

Waverly was looking at Nicole with clear-eyed commitment.

“Well let’s give it a try. Go ahead, Question Master, ask me something about my past.”

“What made you feel happy when you were growing up?”

Waverly gave a gentle smile, her head tilting in the way it did when something comforting struck her.

“My books and running in the woods and driving fast late at night in my Jeep, just shy of reckless, once I got a little older.”

Nicole took in a breath, Waverly’s statement conjuring a vivid image of an earlier iteration of this woman sat before her.

“I bet teenage Waverly speeding in a Jeep, long hair whipping behind her, would have made teenage Nicole trip all over herself.” 

“Well I think teenage Nicole would have pushed teenage Waverly to a few realizations a lot earlier.”

Nicole knew in that moment what had to come next. Memories washing over her from that day, the moment she summoned up some unaccounted for courage and made her own fate, she quietly asked her next question.

“Do I still scare you?”

Waverly took a deep breath and hesitated a moment. Her hand drifted to a strand of Nicole’s hair that had escaped the clip put in place by Nicole earlier that evening. Waverly pushed it behind Nicole’s ear, the gesture an unspoken prologue for Waverly’s response to Nicole’s question.

“There’s this depth to you, Nicole; a complexity that I’m still learning how to explore. As much as my interest in research and, well, even my own history, are full of messiness, in other people my instinct has always been to either look for simplicity or flatten a person’s topography until I can see everything at any given time. I don’t always sit comfortably in the gray areas and well, historically, people’s hidden depths have generally spelled betrayal and/or creatively gruesome endings for Earps. But you… Well you were too compelling to look past.”

Nicole could feel more questions bubbling up, anxieties and reassurances mixing. In place of speaking, she looked at Waverly’s eyes still on her, reflections crystallizing in their searching.

“In answer to your question, yes, sometimes you still scare me. Because everything about who you are and what you represent in the narrative I’ve been building since I was a kid are 100% firmly in the unpredicted and unaccounted for camp. You are a piece of geography I’m still learning to map...or survey... or some other more accurate geological term.” Waverly finished with a dismissive hand gesture.

Nicole had to laugh at this, her girl’s analytical mind thrown into disarray.

“Well I do appreciate the implication that I’m not simple. Or flat, I guess.”

“No Nicole, no, you’re definitely not flat.”

Nicole watched as Waverly gestured her arms around, searching for the right comparison.

“I mean, if we’re to keep this geological metaphor going, you’re like if the Sierra Nevadas charged full speed into the Rockies and then shifted the subterranean shelf and disrupted a tectonic plate and --

“I’m going to personally request we leave this extended metaphor behind,” Nicole interrupted, “Because a) I’m hitting the limits of my earth science knowledge and b) I think I’m mildly insulted I’m being compared to hunks of rock.”

Waverly’s held tipped backward, laughter cascading around the room.

“Baby, you know that you have me, right? With that exquisite mind of yours and _just maybe_ a _slight_ predisposition towards anxiety-fueled overthinking, I know there’s going to continue to be things you need to work out, in your own time and at your own pace. But just know that this thing, that maybe began as some huge new undertaking for you? You’re not alone in it. And if you feel scared, that’s ok, because you can be scared beside me. We’re in this adventure together now, Waves.”

“Baby, sometimes I think we’ve both had enough adventure for a lifetime. But you know what the good news is?” Waverly asked coyly, walking her fingers towards Nicole’s shoulder. 

“What’s that?” Nicole replied, playing along.

“I feel like doing some exploring tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> More to follow...? Thanks for reading!


End file.
